The bond between us
by datawolf39
Summary: Johnlock and mentioned Mpreg. if either of them is not to you liking this is not the fic for you. this is NOT omegaverse. T for safety and some words. Summary: John knows that he can't ignore his feelings forever but he's going to try, or how John Watson denied himself but still ended up in a happy relationship with a mad genius.


A very long time ago when man was new there existed a bond. The bond allowed people to feel when they had encountered the other half of themselves.

For some it happened after they were married to another and it was often times the case that the other spouse stayed and that the relationship was better than ever before due to the amount of love that was expressed from the bond.

In many instances the bonded pair were both of the same gender, this would have caused a population issue but as is often the case nature had planned for that too. In every bonded pair the one better equipped to handle it would bare a child from the union. If they had been able or had even wanted to examine DNA they would have seen that the child was biologically both of theirs.

It was a great existence.

Sadly it came to an end. There was a man that had lost his bonded one and that had drove him mad. But there were those who followed him in renouncing the bond for various reasons.

Before long there were more people rejecting than excepting the bond. It also seemed that the children of people that had abandoned the bond had no ability to bond. themselves

Slowly they began to die out until only a few people capable of the bond remained in secret for fear of persecution. One such family was the Watson's.

John's Dad had known but nobody else had known that his wife had bonded with him. Harry had rejected the heritage when she had been told in an effort to be liked by other students at her school. Something she regretted later on in her life.

John on the other hand had accepted it and that was how he ended up trying to deny that he was in love with Sherlock Holmes. If he indulged the bond Sherlock would leave him and he would suffer more so he kept it to himself until the events that were set in motion by the act of a murderer.

* * *

It was a normal day. Really.

Well as normal as walking around a crime scene with a detective that was moving about like a child hopped up on sugar while a group of official police look-on with exasperation, can be.

But when your name was John Hamish Watson this was normal and the only concern was making sure that there was nobody aiming a firearm at your brilliant and quite annoying at times flatmate.

So in fact it was just an ordinary day as far as John was concerned.

John was a man of instinct and had learned to trust that instinct since it was usually spot-on and it had saved his life and of his comrades back in the war. On this day that instinct was telling him that something was going to happen and that whatever it was, was going to interrupt this unstable stability he had with Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

Sherlock prided himself on knowing many things. Inevitably he did sometimes get things wrong but that was a rare occurrence as anyone could tell you.

Sherlock was a man that could tell a lot about a person at one look and he could read their life history as easily as he could read the printed word.

So with his deductive prowess it was easy to see that John Watson, his friend, for some reason that even he had a hard time figuring out since the man could easily find another way to feed his adrenaline habit since he was much smarter than many gave him credit for, and colleague, was nervous. Due to the friendship that they shared and the simple fact that John was with him more often than not Sherlock could read John very easily and at some point the action had become second nature to him. He would look at John multiple times throughout the day and just see if there was something that was the matter. More often than not he would try to help if it was something that was easily remedied like hunger or need for sleep.

But even the Yarders could hardly miss the nervousness with all of the signs that John was giving. John had at some point adopted a military stance and his eyes were flitting about every few seconds as though a gunman was going to appear out of thin air at any moment.

Sherlock looked around quickly to try to see if he could catch what had alerted John. Sherlock trusted John's instincts as much as John did since they were usually right and he owed his life to those sharply honed instincts more times than he would like to admit.

* * *

It happened so quickly and had John not already been alert a lot of blood might have been shed. As it was though the only blood spilled had been a murder's and John's own. Sherlock had been prattling off more detail than necessary just to show that he could and Lestrade had dismissed the other Yarders only staying himself because he was taking notes and he was the least likely to kill Sherlock while nobody was looking.

There was a faint sound from the closet. It might have been there the whole time but without the interference of voices it could be heard. John approached slowly with his gun pulled from the band of his trousers. Silently he waved Lestrade and Sherlock back so that they would stay where they were as he cautiously opened the closet.

There was a man there and he had a gun. John saw this in one glance.

Both guns were aimed.

John was faster.

That's when the bomb was noticed and all three of them could see that there was only a minute left on the timer.

"Run," John screamed at the other two as he held the thing.

Both of the other men ran from the building and then they heard the explosion behind them. John must have found a way to contain the damage because the building looked fine apart from smoke that was pouring out of the front door of the one story.

For a eternal moment Sherlock felt as though his heart had stopped. John had remained inside and he could very well be dead. Death was not something that Sherlock cared about except in the terms of murder because it was what he was passionate about. But the mad genius was finding that the thought of John as dead did not compute. Since John had entered his life and breached the walls that he had established and he found that he had unconsciously think of his life in terms of Sherlock and John.

John was his friend and that was an unconditional thing. John wanted nothing in return from him and many thought that he would ever have a relationship like that and he included himself was of that opinion.

Sherlock came to his senses and tried to run back in only to be held back by Lestrade.

Before he could protest though, John came stumbling out of the building. He was coughing and sputtering. Blood was dripping from his arm.

"John!" Sherlock cried as he ran to the man as he emerged.

"Careful not to look too relieved to see me Sherlock, people will talk."

"Doesn't matter." said the consulting detective as he hugged him. It happened to be a good thing that Sherlock had hugged him because moments later John lost consciousness.

When John woke he was in a hospital. A while ago this might have alarmed him but living with Sherlock had increased the amount of time he had spent in the hospital so much that it was when he woke up in other places that gave him worry.

"Finally up I see," Sherlock said as he walked into the room with some food that smelled way too good to have come from the cafeteria.

But there was a problem. One of his arms was immobilized in a cast and the other had IV's in it.

Sherlock being the practical man that he was fed him kabobs that he had bought (or acquired since every restaurant owner in the world seem to owe him for something) from the Chinese place a few blocks from the flat.

This did nothing to help John to contain the feelings that he tried so hard to ignore. But he was grateful nevertheless because he was very hungry and he hadn't relished the thought of hospital food anyway.

* * *

A few days later they were sitting in the flat and Sherlock was studying John with a fierceness that he only devoted to his experiments and to the most interesting of crime scenes. Something was wrong with John. Since the day before it had seemed like the man was pulling away. After careful examination Sherlock was sure that he hadn't done anything that would cause John to shut him out and scarily enough Sherlock was unable to read what had caused the rift that had formed between them.

Slowly there came more and more moments where John would disappear. John stopped talking to him and then he stopped coming to crime scenes and finally he stopped coming home for days at a time until one day Sherlock noticed that most of John's belongings were gone and so was the man himself.

Sherlock tried not to care. He had always known that what he and John had wouldn't last forever. But between the idiots at the Yard poking fun at him and the emptiness of the flat he got more and more upset. It had only been two days since John had left and already the Work had suffered even more than it had when John had just ignored him and Sherlock was suffering as well. He may not admit it but nevertheless it was true.

So the man decided that he would hunt John down. After all what kind of detective would he be if he was unable to find someone that he cared for when it truly mattered. He had it all planned out too. John would tell him what was bothering him, Sherlock would fix it and John would come home to Baker Street and it would be like always. As he searched John's room for where he might have gone he tried to think of what could have made John feel the need to run from him. He hadn't done any weird experiments lately and he has eaten and slept when he needed to. He hadn't made to big a mess lately and he had even made John tea of the non-drugged variety. So whatever it was it was something that he was not aware of having done and he had done it sometime after the day John had been hospitalized since that was when all of this had started.

Finding nothing helpful he threw himself on John's bed to think. He doesn't think that John will have left London quite yet so he can safely say that he is still close enough to find. Sherlock pulled out his phone. He contemplates calling Mycroft so that he can just get John's location but not only would he be indebted to his brother he also felt like that would be cheating because John was his friend so he should be able to find him on his own abilities.

For hours he wandered from hotel to hotel. He knew that there was only so many places that John could afford so that narrowed it down a bit but there was still a lot of places left to check. Eventually he found the right one and he would never admit that it was by chance even though it was.

Once he got to the room he took a breath and then he put on his patented John-you- are-an-idiot face and knocked. The moment that the door opened his mask dropped. John looked different. He looked tired and with him being jumperless Sherlock could see that he had lost a lot of weight and it was scary.

When John saw who it was he tried to shut the door but Sherlock had recovered enough from the shock of seeing his friend as he was and was able to stop him. John saw this and ran into the bathroom locking the door behind him.

"Go away Sherlock!" he screamed.

"Not until you tell me why you left." Sherlock said having a seat on the bed it was only a bit away from the door of the bathroom and it was much more comfortable than sitting on the floor would be.

There was a moment of silence and then "I can't Sherlock. I can't. But you have to leave now okay."

"No."

"Please. "John said. Startling Sherlock with the way that it sounded. John was crying he realized after a moment.

For a moment Sherlock was silent since he had absolutely no idea of what to say. "John I will leave once you come out of there and tell me why you ran away. You are my best friend and I think that I deserve to know why I have to lose your friendship."

For a second nothing happened and then there was a click and the bathroom door opened. John unsteadily walked over to the bed."I can't be your friend Sherlock and if you don't leave I won't be able to control myself and I will do something that will destroy our friendship."

Sherlock saw it now. John loved him and that was what this was all about. The moment he goes to confirm it out loud though he sees that it is not just that there is something deeper than feelings going on here.

"What will happen to you if I leave John?" he asks.

John looks away and says nothing. Sherlock sees it then. He knows that he cannot leave because if he does he knows that he will never see John again.

"Explain to me John." there is an unspoken 'please' there and they both hear it.

"I can't Sherlock. I just can't." the blond says. He is shaking now. His hand reaches out to touch Sherlock but at the last second he pulls it away.

Sherlock can see the battle raging between John's wants and John's mind.

"Why John?"

"Sherlock you have to go!"

"Why?"

"Sherlock think now because this is your last chance. If you stay I will jump you. I will kiss you and most likely penetrate you. I won't ever be able to leave you and if you leave me I will die or end up in a mental institution. So choose now stay or leave."

Sherlock is in shock. John had never been so blunt before. Then there is the fact that John said what he did. Did he want that? Well obviously he did because he wasn't as limp down there as he was a moment ago. On to the next question then. Could he live with being in a relationship with John. He could if it would make John come home. Did he love John? He had never thought about it but if he had to he would say yes. He had never loved someone before outside of the familial sense but he was sure that the way that his heart was racing was a sign that yes he was in love with his friend. Internal debate over the said "I choose to stay."

He saw the shock on John's face. It was like the man had expected to be told no. But the shock didn't last for a moment before it was exchanged with a predatory look. "Mine," John growled and then proceeded to snog him senseless. By the time he came back to himself he and John were naked. He wondered very briefly how they got that way. But soon all he was able to breathe (and he took back ever saying that it was boring. It most certainly was not) because there was a cock currently being shoved up a certain part of his anatomy. It hurt but not too much and he guessed that he had been prepared but he honestly couldn't remember it to save his life.

Time lost meaning and only sensation of skin on skin existed. All the while John began murmuring a chant of "Mine. Mine." as he shagged Sherlock senseless.

When Sherlock became aware again he realized that he was in bed alone and it was completely dark. He looked around moving only his head because nothing else seemed to be responding quite yet since he was completely blissed out.

"I'm sorry," said a voice from the corner of the room.

Sherlock didn't know what he was apologizing for and he was quite up to deducing it yet. "Come over here." he said.

Hesitantly John walked over and to his surprise the moment that he was close enough he was pulled down into the bed half on top of its occupant. "Now what are you sorry for?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock. I practically raped you." He said quietly tone drenched in self-disgust.

That jolted Sherlock into total awareness. Here was totally blissed out and here John was feeling guilty. Hugging his compact companion closer he whispered "You did not rape me." He said spit the word out with distaste because he would never use that word to describe what had happened between him and John. "You gave me the chance to leave. I _chose_ not to. You told me what you would do and I still stayed. I'm fairly sure that had I asked you would have stopped too no matter what it cost you. So in no way was this non-consensual."

He felt more than saw John smile. But the older man still didn't relax. "Sherlock, there is something I have to tell you." with that John explained the bond to him and it came as no surprise that when Sherlock knew what he was looking for he could feel it too even though at one point his ancestors had given that up.

"That's not all is it?" Sherlock asked once John had finished and judging by the blush he would say that John had left out something that was important. "Well you see..."

* * *

_Eight Months Later_

_ "_They are beautiful." John said as he looked at the twins that he had held in him for so long. Sherlock, he and the babies were in a private hospital since Mycroft had, had to be told. John had spent the last few months in a cottage in the country since he was showing so much he could no longer hide it with huge jumpers and claim that he had put on a few pounds.

Sherlock nodded his agreement. "They need names." Sherlock said.

"Have any ideas?" John asked.

"I want the boy to be named Johnathan."

John beamed and said "Well if he is named after me she should get part of your name. How about Sherissa. That's pretty isn't it."

It was Sherlock turn to smile. It was a pretty name.

A few days later, once they had returned to Baker Street Lestrade came over to the flat. He was told that he was going to get to see why Sherlock and John had disappeared for months and quite frankly he was curious. When he arrived he saw that Mycroft was there as well and it seemed like he had just arrived as well.

"Thanks for coming over Greg," John said as he stepped out of the kitchen with a tray of tea. Then Sherlock came downstairs. "Alright me and Sherlock were gone for a bit because there was something that we needed to take care of. I would go into detail but you would never believe me. Suffices to say that we want you to be godfather to our kids."

It was only do to the fact that he had seen so much in his life while working as a DI that he didn't faint.

With that Sherlock went up the stairs coming back with two baby carriers.

"This," Sherlock said as he gently handed him the boy "is Johnathan Gregory Watson-Holmes." he smirked when saw the man to a double take as he heard the middle name. "She," Sherlock said picking up his daughter "is Sherissa Mykayla Watson-Holmes."

There was a startled gasp from Mycroft who, until then, had been unaware of the girl's middle name. "John came up with it." Sherlock said. John smiled knowing that Sherlock was just trying to pretend like he was upset about it but the effect of his words were ruined by the grin on his face.

It was only after hearing the last name twice that Lestrade realized that at some point John and Sherlock had gotten married.

**A/N I am still working on other stories but this has been on my computer unfinished long enough. Now i can work on the other non finished ones i have and on my incomplete ones that i have up. R and R.**


End file.
